


Energon on Your Lips

by neveralarch



Category: Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Assets & Handlers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: Jazz was already good at killing before he met Prowl. That was the joke about Autobots, wasn't it? Hang around with them too long and your head might just come off.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl (Transformers)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 129
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Energon on Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rayguntomyhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayguntomyhead/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! This is a treat that got a little long - hope you like it :)
> 
> This fic contains off-screen violence and unnamed character death, and kissing. Please let me know if you'd like details.

Jazz was already good at killing before he met Prowl. That was the joke about Autobots, wasn't it? Hang around with them too long and your head might just come off.

_Primus_ , Jazz cracked himself up. No, but seriously—he'd been an assassin for the Senate back before the world was broken open and remade. In the new regime, Optimus Prime had chosen him personally to lead his special ops unit. Well, chosen. He'd ordered the Senate's attack drones to fight to the death in front of him, and promoted the last mech standing. Jazz had licked the fresh-spilled energon off his teeth and smiled as he saluted. He was a lucky mech, and he knew it.

The first time he actually heard the strategy behind killing, though... that was all Prowl.

Prowl _explained_. When he wanted someone dead, he told Jazz why—not because he was raving about his evil plan like a normal leader, either, but because he _thought Jazz should know_. Because Jazz could make better tactical decisions with all the information. It was fragging intoxicating. 

"Tell me again why I'm goin' after this guy," purred Jazz, sitting in the guest chair in Prowl’s office. Prowl even had guest chairs! Didn’t make Jazz stand and wait for hours, or kneel before his throne! He was just the best.

Prowl blinked at him, his face as friendly and open as ever. "Governor Verdigris is flirting with sedition," he repeated, patiently. "If he continues on his current trajectory, he will begin contemplating betraying our Lord Prime in three point seven five months. If he follows through, there is a forty percent chance that Polyhex will fall into enemy hands. Better to make an example of him now, so his lieutenant governor cleaves close to the Autobot line when he is promoted. We cannot have _any_ disloyal thoughts."

Jazz slumped forward over Prowl's desk, flexing his claws in and out with pleasure. Intelligence just _spilling_ out, for him! Prowl shifted back in his chair, looking at Jazz with some concern. Aw, no, that wouldn't do.

Jazz propped himself up on his elbows, and gave Prowl a reassuringly fangy smile. "What if the el tee is already in on it?"

"Destroy _any_ dissidence," said Prowl. "I trust your judgment."

Jazz bit his lip to suppress a moan.

"Are you _ill_?" said Prowl.

"Just love drunk, babe," said Jazz—and then had to reassure Prowl that he hadn't been drinking on duty. Mech had no sense of humor, but Jazz didn’t mind. He had basically everything else going for him.

\---

When Prowl had first given Jazz his orders, he'd been calm and confident. Sure that Optimus Prime's cause was the right one.

That hadn't lasted. It had been a long war, and those fragging Decepticons were always making speeches about freedom being the right of every Cybertronian, blah blah blah, as if they weren't busily building little prisons of _morals_ and _decency_. It was easy to be exhausted. Easy to question if murdering everyone was really the way to go.

Easy as falling off a cliff. Jazz's knives were still waiting for any budding dissidents.

Prowl didn't have a Decepticon-sympathizing strut in his frame, but he was only a mech. His optics looked tired, lately. It was harder to get him to smile. He didn't meet Jazz's optics when he explained his assignments, just read mechanically from a datapad.

It wasn't as much _fun_.

"Hey," said Jazz impulsively, interrupting Prowl's rambling about some radical graffiti artists. "Why don't you come with me, on this one?"

"Come with you?" Prowl startled a little, his optics flicking up from the datapad. "On a _mission_?"

"Yeah," said Jazz, warming to the idea. "Do you good to get out of the office, see what the field's like. Make you a better tactician, if you know what's happening on the ground."

"That's what reports are for," said Prowl. His hands clutched at the side of the desk as if he was worried Jazz might try to pry him away. "I'm not... suited. For fieldwork."

"Hey, hey, don't worry about that." Jazz reached out and took one of Prowl's hands. "I'll keep you safe. Nice little field trip, just the two of us. When's the last time you did something fun?"

Prowl didn't answer. Jazz squeezed his captive hand.

"Come on," he said. "Don’t give yourself time to stress about it, we’ll go now. You can give me the rest of the brief on the way."

\---

It _was_ a fun mission. Infiltrating the cell was easy, even with Prowl tagging along. In through the trash chute, out through the vents, not really _elegant_ but Jazz loved hearing the screams of surprise from his targets/victims every time.

He'd dragged it out a little, for Prowl. Shown off. Did some acrobatics, made some _spectacular_ energon fountains. When the last body hit the floor, he turned to Prowl expecting a sparkle in his optic and praise on his lips.

Instead Prowl was backed up against a wall, his hands covering his mouth.

"Prowler!" Jazz leapt to him. "Are you okay? Did one of them hurt you?"

Prowl shook his helm. His door wings were trembling, and his optics were fever-bright. He didn't say a word.

Jazz tucked away both the knives he'd been holding and put his hands on Prowl's shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asked, as gently as he knew how.

Prowl took a shallow, gasping vent. "I've never seen anyone die before," he said, muffled behind his hands.

"Oh!" Jazz glanced back at the cooling frames. "Yeah! Wasn't it rad?"

Prowl's engine hiccupped. "I didn't know," he mumbled. "Is it always like this?" His optics tracked over a spray of energon across Jazz's chest. "Do they always beg?"

"I don't always give 'em the chance." Jazz winked. "Special show just for you, sweetspark."

Prowl's plating clamped. His door wings were held low and tight to his frame, and his vents were speeding, and frag, if Jazz didn't know better, he'd think—

"Prowl," he said, "baby, are you scared of me?"

Prowl's helm jerked up and down. "I'm," he stuttered, "I'm, I'm h-having a disloyal thought."

"Aw, no," Jazz reached up and stilled him with one hand caressing his cheek. "Don't be scared. I ain't gonna kill you for thinking."

"You've killed plenty of people for thinking," insisted Prowl. He dropped his hands, and Jazz could see the dents where he'd bitten his own lip. "Why should I be an exception?"

"Because you're mine," said Jazz, thoughtlessly. "My tactician, my handler, _my_ Prowl. I'd kill the whole world before I killed you."

Prowl stared at him, mouth open. It was easy, so easy, to lean forward and kiss him.

It took a moment, but finally Prowl kissed back, all clumsy passion. Jazz wondered if he'd never done this, either.

"I'll teach you," Jazz breathed, when their lips parted. "It's easy, I'll teach you to like it. The sound mechs make when their spark leaves 'em—it's music, Prowler, I'll show you how to hear it."

Prowl closed his optics. When he opened them he looked a little more like the Prowl Jazz knew. Confident. Determined. "Yes," he said. "For the glory of the Prime."

_Frag the Prime_ , thought Jazz, but he didn't say it. He didn't care much what side he was on. As long as he had his knives and his Prowl, he was happy.


End file.
